_Monday, Aug. 14._--I come now to introduce to you a new acquaintance.
I did not get down to breakfast till it was almost over, as I was
detained with the queen, and as everybody was obliged to make what haste
they could, in order to insure a meal before a summons. I found Miss
Planta, and the aide-de-camp, vice chamberlain, and equerry; Lady
Harcourt had already breakfasted with them, but made off as soon as the
queen was visible, to wait upon her majesty. Miss Vernons lay in bed
from yesterday's fatigues.
The extreme silence and gravity of the aide-de-camp threw a reserve and
constraint on all the party, and we were all nearly dumb, when a
new lady suddenly rushed into the room. This was Mrs. Harcourt, the
aide-de-camp's wife, who had been ill the preceding day, and therefore
had not ventured to Oxford. She is a showy, handsome woman, extremely
talkative, with quick parts, high spirits, and a rattling vein of
humour.
Miss Planta, who had taken Lady Harcourt's place, in order to pour out
the tea, instantly moved to another. Mrs. Harcourt hurried into that
just vacated, without ceremony, calling out, “How monstrous late you
all are!--though I need not talk, for I hate getting up early. I was so
vastly ill yesterday I could not stir, but I am vastly well to-day, so I
am going to Blenheim.”
This day had been previously dedicated to seeing Blenheim.
“To Blenheim?” repeated General Harcourt, in a low voice.
“Yes, sir, to Blenheim! So no grave faces, for my plan is fixed.”
He half articulated a fear of her being ill again, but she stopped him
with “O, no matter, leave that to the Fates;--the queen has been so
gracious as to say I may go, and therefore go I shall: so say nothing
about it, for that's settled and unalterable.”
“After being so ill yesterday,” said Mr. Fairly, “I think it will be
rather too much for you.”
“Not at all!--and what's more, you must carry me.”
“I am very glad to hear it,” cried he, “if go you will.”
“Yes, that I will, certainly; and some of you must take me. I have
no coach ordered,-and there is not one to spare: so, amongst you, you
equerries, you must carry me. I have never been to Blenheim since I
married.”
“Were you before?” said the general.
“Yes, sir, and you took me.”
“Did I?”
“Yes, sir, you had that honour; and I think you have never taken that
trouble since.”
All this, though uttered in a voice as peremptory as the language, was
spoken with very becoming smiles, and an air of saucy good humour.
The breakfast all this while had stood quite still: indeed there was
nobody but myself that had not nearly done. Major Price handed me roll
and butter and bread across the table, by way of hint, I believe; all
which I declined: at last Mr. Fairly said,
“Miss Burney, which is your cup?”
Upon this, Mrs. Harcourt, abruptly turning to me, exclaimed “O dear,
you've got no tea!” Then pouring out a dish of slop, added, “Can you
drink it? It looks very melancholy.”
“No,” I said, “I have had enough.”
Have not you also, my Susan, had enough of this scene?
The Blenheim visit being considered as a private one, nobody went but
of the Marlborough acquaintance: though in all royal parties, the whole
company is always named by the royals, and the lords and ladies of the
mansions have no more right to invite a guest than a guest has to come
uninvited.
I spent this day very pleasantly, in walking over the grounds which are
extremely pretty, seeing a flower-garden planned by Mr. Mason, and
the pictures in the house. The two Miss Vernons, Miss Planta, and Mr.
Hagget, were all that remained at Nuneham. And it was now I wholly made
peace with those two ladies; especially the eldest, as I found her, the
moment she was removed from rays so bright that they had dazzled her,
a rational, composed, obliging woman. She took infinite and unwearied
pains to make amends for the cold and strange opening of our
acquaintance, by the most assiduous endeavours to give me pleasure and
amusement. And she succeeded very well. I could blame nobody but the
countess' sister for our reception; I plainly saw these ladies had been
unprepared to look upon us as any charge to themselves.
The royal excursioners did not return till between six and seven
o'clock, when we dined with the same party as the preceding day. The
evening, too, had just the same visitors, and passed in just the same
manner.